


Zydrate

by Goober



Category: Repo! The Genetic Opera (2008), Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Breathplay, Corpses, Dark, Graverobber Hux, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Repo Man Kylo, Repo! AU, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Spit As Lube, Unsafe Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8395744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goober/pseuds/Goober
Summary: A voice heavily filtered and thick with a possessive growl beneath the mask that splits the chaos, loud, demanding. “He’s mine.”
The Repo Man moves closer, crossing the distance between them with predatory steps. The officers either lower their weapons or back away completely, helplessly watching as the scene unfolds.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dusty_Forgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/gifts).



> For my best friend and beta reader <3
> 
> If you haven't seen Repo! The Genetic Opera you need to immediately right now, it's SO GOOD.  
> It's the future after an epidemic of organ failures, a company makes artificial organs and repossesses them if you can't pay.
> 
> [Soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLE5E4BDCF800BC87A)

The night is oppressive; neon lights line the streets around the graveyard, the moon entirely too bright, searchlights scanning the headstones and crypts with a precise eye. Hux slinks through what little shadows there are, pressing up against crumbling marble as he scans the area. It’s risky to try for one more — he knows he has more than enough zydrate to last him a handful of days — but he doesn’t care.

Hux approaches a grave sheltered by a tree with overgrown, weeping branches, aware of the kit strapped to his thigh as he kneels beside the coffin. He pushes branches out of the way, eyes flicking up to keep a look out for the police as he pushes the cracked lid of the raised grave. Hux reaches down to his kit, palming the needle and a fresh vial.

Someone large stands in the searchlights, watching him.

He pushes the needle into the nostril of the uncovered corpse, making direct eye contact with the eyeless mask.

The stranger is overwhelmingly large even at a distance: an overbearing shadow with no face, arms perfectly folded over their chest, shoulders hunched a little, predatory. Hux continues to watch them until the vial is full of glowing blue liquid, removing the needle with a sickening sound of metal sliding on bone. He pockets the zydrate in his overcoat, pulling it tighter over his shoulders.

Cold wind brushes the hair from his face as he stands, leaning against the headstone to his right. The movement captures the attention of the assorted officers and the spotlight blinds him for a moment as it’s shone upon him.

The light moves and he can see shadows of the police surrounding him, each raising a rifle to him. Hux crosses his arms over his chest as the stranger lunges forward with a powerful slam of his boot on the ground, grabbing one of the kneeling officers and throwing him to the dirt.

A voice heavily filtered and thick with a possessive growl beneath the mask that splits the chaos, loud, demanding. “He’s  _ mine. _ ”

The Repo Man moves closer, crossing the distance between them with predatory steps. The officers either lower their weapons or back away completely, helplessly watching as the scene unfolds.

Hux’s eyes run along the stranger’s figure before he turns, coat swaying against the ground as he walks away. He knows it isn’t far to the hole in the iron fence he cut, but the walk feels longer as the filtered breathing behind him grows louder and louder. Still, his shoulders never fall, and his stride doesn’t break.

It’s been a long time coming, this.

Twelve years underground with a heart he couldn’t afford on his own; it was inevitable Snoke would send someone after him. Hux has been more than ready since day one.

The walk back to his place is tense, Hux waiting for a blow to his back that never comes. It would be so easy for him to get it over with, to do his job and go home. Why he feels the need to follow Hux through the broken, rotting streets of the city is beyond him.

Hux’s place is general housing; an apartment complex so squished between two other ruined buildings that it’s amazing how the structure even supports itself. The stairs are old and protest loudly under their combined weight, and Hux thinks maybe they’ll finally crack and send then both plummeting to the basement below. He’s the only one on his floor because it is so high up. No one wants to be the first to die when the building inevitably crumples in on itself, but Hux doesn’t care. Not with the view he has.

When he opens his door he doesn’t bother shutting it, moving to the cabinet on the far end of the kitchen to remove his take for the night. The familiar and oppressive ticking takes over the otherwise tense silence between them.

The door shutting and the hard click of the deadbolt returns his attention to the stranger standing in his doorway.

“Well?”

Nothing.

“I’m waiting.” Hux moves around the table and leans against it, crossing his arms as he cocks his head to the side. The stranger still stares at him, an uncomfortable hour passing in the span of seconds, all marked by the tick-tock of dozens and dozens of clocks.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

The crackling voice sounds as amused as the filter allows it to be.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your job?” Hux jabs.

There’s a moment of silence before the stranger removes their helmet with a low hiss, holding it against his hip as his face comes into view. Intense dark brown eyes scan Hux’s face, his head turning with consideration. Thick black hair curls around his face, pale, marked with small constellations. The most striking things about him are his nose — hawkish, but befitting the angle of his face — and thick, full lips pulled into an amused smirk. A thick, pale scar bisects his face from the bridge of his nose to the edge of his jaw. Instead of making his face look out of place, the scar seems to only add to the attractive features he has.

What was the point of showing his face? Hux narrows his eyes and pulls his arms tighter against his chest.

“Armitage Hux.” The man’s voice is thicker than his mask gives away, a deep near purr that has him tense. “Why so eager?”

“I’m tired of waiting,” Hux huffs. He refuses to be intimidated by the look in the stranger’s eyes. “If you’re going to do your job, then do it. Otherwise — get out.”

The Repo Man’s smile doesn’t fade as he steps closer. “Your file was nearly overlooked. Twelve years without a payment; surely you had to be dead by now. But this is why I’m the best at my job.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed you found someone who wasn’t even  _ trying to hide _ ?”

He should have expected the hit, but it startles him all the same. In the space of a second the stranger crosses the space between them and cracks his gloved hand across Hux’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. When he stumbles the stranger grabs him by the front of his shirt, shaking the coat from his shoulders. They’re face to face, and the Repo Man’s lips are twisted in a sneer.

“Do.  _ Not _ ,” he growls, “play with me.” Breath hot in Hux’s face, overwhelming him with the sheer proximity of the stranger.

The sharp response dies in Hux’s throat as he struggles, uncrossing his arms to push the man. A knee jabs him between the ribs, body roughly thrown down so the strike winds him. Hux falls to the ground, doesn’t have time to move before the toe of a black boot is kicked into his stomach. Again in his side. His teeth split his lower lip as he’s yanked up by his collar, thrown across the table so harshly the wood creaks and nearly snaps in half.

Hux kicks the man in the chest, managing to push him away for a moment. When he struggles to his feet the man retaliates and grabs him by the back of the head, flipping him onto his chest and slamming his face into the wood. Again the table protests as the stranger’s entire weight is put on Hux’s back, his arm twisted behind him and between their bodies. Hux grits his teeth and the metallic taste of blood crosses his lips as he feels the rush of heat dripping from his nose.

“Do you really think you can overpower me?” The voice in his ear snarls. “Now.  _ Beg _ .”

“Fuck you,” Hux spits.

His face is slammed into the table again, and Hux hisses. “Do you really care so little about your own life?”

“What does it matter to you? Can’t get it up unless you see them cry?” 

Hux turns his head to press his cheek into the table, trying to get a glance at the man.

“I think you’ll find I can get it up just fine.” He startles a little as the man grinds into him, breath warming Hux’s skin as he leans close to his neck.

“Are you seriously propositioning me?”

The lips at his neck give way to teeth, a feral grin pressed against his throat. “I’m the only one with your file. I could make it go away.”

Hux laughs, a single crackling sound before the surprise cuts it off. “You  _ are _ propositioning me.”

“I might be having second thoughts about you.”

“Why?”

The stranger grinds against him again. “Does it matter?”

Yes, yes it does. Hux isn’t sure if he’s so unlucky that the Repo Man with his case is so incompetent that he can’t finish the job, or if this is a good thing. He doesn’t just let random — handsome — strangers in his house, and he  _ certainly  _ doesn’t let them fuck him.

And yet, here he is.

“How much time will this buy me?”

Tick—tock. “Time?”

“I let you fuck me, you give me more time before you repossess my heart. Isn’t that how this works?”

“No.” The stranger pulls away from his neck but keeps Hux pinned to the table. “You won’t be any fun to kill.  _ That _ is why you have more time. I’m not fucking you unless you’re willing.”

“Why fuck me at all?”

A moment of silence punctuated only by the ever present ticking of his house. “You interest me.”

“I’m flattered,” Hux rolls his eyes. “If you’re not going to kill me then what do you get out of this?”

“You.” A hand runs along Hux’s side, gloved nails pressing into his hip. “Do I need more reason than that?”

_ Probably. _ “Fine.”

Hux is spun around and shoved to his knees, a hand gripping his chin to bring his face up. The Repo Man’s face is illuminated only by the neon lights outside his window, shadows playing across the considering look he gives Hux.

The stranger removes the rubber garb slowly, shedding it from his shoulders and moving his hand away from Hux’s face only to drape it over the table. Beneath is a thick black robe, which he unbuckles as well. Hux’s eyes follow the lines of his body, clothes tight against his skin, expecting the man to shove his cock in Hux’s mouth any second.

He’s surprised when instead a large black boot kicks him squarely in the chest and sends him on his back, enough warning pressure placed on his sternum to keep him in place. Hux grimaces a little at being on the floor, but it’s not the filthiest place he’s been tonight.

“I don’t know your name.” Hux stares up at the man, lacking anything better to say.

“Ren.” His voice is gruff as he gives this small bit of information, removing his foot to kneel between Hux’s legs. Without finesse he grabs at Hux’s belt to unbuckle it, pulling his hips until his ass is against Ren’s knees. Hux wants to make some kind of comment about the name but, really, who is he to judge?

Hux raises his hips as Ren slides his pants over his hips, dragging his boxers with until Hux has to toe out of his boots for the clothing to come off completely. Ren tosses them aside and hovers over him, grinding down into him. Hux’s face reddens as he looks at the mouth hovering close to his face, waiting for Ren to kiss him.

It never comes. Instead Ren mouths at his jaw, biting and sucking at the skin of his neck. Hux isn’t sure what he expected, but bares his throat for the man anyway.

Gloved fingertips press against his lips, and when Hux opens his mouth to protest they shove in roughy, very nearly making him gag. He tastes — what he hopes is — dried blood splattered across the dark leather swirling around his tongue, sliding to the back of his throat to gather as much saliva as possible. Ren watches in interest, head tilted to the side as he continues pushing into Hux’s mouth.

“I have lube, you brute,” Hux bitches when Ren removes his fingers.

“Good for you.” Ren sits back and brings Hux’s ankles over his shoulders.

Hux shudders a little at the rough catch of leather on his rim as the spit slick finger circles his hole. When Ren inches the finger inside as much as the first push will allow, Hux’s mouth hangs open a little in a silent groan.

He watches Ren’s face intently as the man stares at the way Hux’s body swallows his finger, cheeks reddening under the intensity of his gaze. The sting of the intrusion is greater than it would have been with lube, but Hux is more concerned with getting Ren to move. Angling his hips down pointedly he gasps as the finger breaches him a little more, crooking and dragging along his insides.

Ren’s fingers are larger than his own, and the shallow in-and-out slide takes a moment to adjust to when he finally moves his hand. Hux’s head falls back with a groan as Ren pushes in as much as he can, swirling his finger around teasingly.

“You blush so easily.” The humor in Ren’s voice makes him close his eyes, feeling his face only grow hotter under the observation.

Ren leans down and kisses along his jaw again, working Hux open quickly and without regard for his comfort as a second finger pushes beside the first much too quickly. Hux makes an undignified whimper and bites his lower lip as the finger slips in, thighs quivering on either side of Ren’s frame.

“You like this?” Ren asks, breathing against his neck. Hux grits his teeth as Ren bites him roughly, soothing it over with his tongue. “Being thrown down and used?” When there is no answer he grips Hux’s hair with his free hand and tugs. “Answer me.”

“Yes.” Hux’s breath hitches as both fingers bend and spread in reward for answering. “Yes, yes, I like this. You’re almost —  _ there _ .” The breath is punched from his lungs as a sharp jab of Ren’s fingers push against his prostate. He clenches around Ren, earning him a sound somewhere between a low growl and a laugh.

The fingers continue pushing against him until Hux shudders, moaning and arching his back like a common whore. He can feel the smirk against his neck as Ren trails open mouthed kisses along his throat, teasing his teeth against the sensitive skin.

Hux’s hips move with Ren’s hand, fucking himself back on his fingers until he tenses. A third slips in and he bites his lip, eyes opening when Ren grips his hair harder. He catches Ren staring at his lips, stinging and a little swollen from where he’s been dragging them between his teeth. Hux watches Ren’s tongue slide across a plush lower lip, finds himself wanting to feel if it is as soft as it looks.

For a second he thinks he might be able to do just that, as Ren leans in. Only to have a strange sting of disappointment flare in his chest when Ren instead bites at the space below his ear.

When Ren removes his fingers Hux groans, clenching on nothing.

Hux watches the man unzip his fly and pull his trousers down just over his ass, underwear falling with it and letting his cock spring free. “Fuck, you’re big.” Hux swallows past the initial intimidation upon realizing where that  _ thing  _ is intending to go.

He’s likely the biggest thing Hux has or will ever take: thick and uncut and dripping with arousal, as obscene as any wet dream he’s ever had.

Ren makes a humored noise but doesn’t answer him, instead he pulls Hux’s knees over his shoulders and moves closer, spitting into his palm and slicking himself up. He bends Hux nearly in half as he leans over him, guiding the head of his leaking cock to Hux’s hole.

He pushes slow, the pair groaning as the tip slides in with minimal resistance. As he continues Hux’s body fights against the intrusion and he breathes through it, a hand moving to grip Ren’s hair. He tugs hard when he needs the man to go slower, and to his credit, Ren actually listens. Fingers twine in soft black hair and Hux finds he likes the texture of it, running his nails lightly against his scalp.

Hux’s jaw falls open as Ren is halfway in him, squeezing his eyes shut as it starts to feel more and more like he’s being split in half. The threat of tears well in the corners of his eyes. It feels like an eternity before Ren bottoms out, balls against his stretched hole. The man above him pants against his neck, still for several seconds too long.

“Move already.” Hux kicks at his back with a heel, trying to spur Ren into action.

“Demanding aren’t you?” He starts with a few shallow thrusts and moans, “Fuck you feel good.” Hux shivers beneath him as nearly every thrust hits his prostate; not necessarily from skill, but because Ren is so large his cock has no choice but to rub against it.

Even with Ren moving slow there’s little easing his way in and out, and Hux feels the pull of his muscles as he tries to relax around him. He moans as a large hand grips his throat, squeezing lightly as the pace starts to pick up. Hux’s eyes open and lock on Ren’s, large and nearly swallowed by his pupils.

Hux nearly screams as Ren jabs his hips forward roughly, the fingers tightening until he feels a little lightheaded.

“You like that? You like it when I have control over you?”

Hux nods as best he can and is rewarded with a harder squeeze. “More,” he manages to groan.

His mouth falls open and he can’t close it again, caught in a silent moan as Ren’s pace becomes nearly brutal. He’s totally lost in the sensation, body shaking as everything in his hips and ass protest against the rough treatment. Tears slip from the corner of his eye, and a gloved thumb wipes them away.

When his throat is released Hux sucks in a shaky breath and nearly chokes on it, whimpering and moaning without shame. His hands curl harder in Ren’s hair, urging him on when he sucks where his thumb used to be. Hux wants the mark there, wants to see the angry bruise against his skin every time he sees his reflection.

Ren alternates between dragging his cock nearly the entire way out before slamming back in, and short, rough pumps into Hux’s hips. He takes, and takes, and Hux has no choice but to will his body to give — and he  _ loves  _ it.

It’s the roughest he’s ever been fucked but he doesn’t want it to be any different. 

Hux grits his teeth as he feels his body become raw and sensitive, but nothing in him wants it to stop. The hand is back on his throat, thumb digging just painfully enough into the mark Ren left him.

Ren’s other hand hooks against the collar of his shirt and tears, ripping the fabric and sending the first two buttons flying. “Watch it,” he manages to growl. Hux denies that he nearly came on the spot.

“It’s in my way,” Ren hisses against his collarbone.

“ _ Fuck _ .” Hux closes his eyes and loses himself in the moment; Ren’s cock pressing against his prostate with every hard thrust, teeth against his skin, a relentless tight heat in his stomach.

Hux knows he’s going to be feeling this for at least a week, if the ache and burn of his body is any indication.

“Come for me.” Ren pulls from where he was sucking on the hollow of Hux’s throat. “I want to feel you clench around me. Want to watch you lose it. Fucking hell, Hux. Come  _ now _ .”

The growl of his name and gloved nails digging into his ass are all Hux needs, coming hard against his stomach with a shout that would wake neighbors if he had any. His body clamps down on Ren, shivering as his breath is all but knocked from him. His back arches and he feels Ren spill deep inside him with an animal moan and a rough nip to his jaw.

Hux shakes as his muscles tighten and loosen again, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Ren stills above him and presses his forehead into Hux’s shoulder, panting nearly twice as hard. There’s a slick pop as Ren pulls himself from Hux’s body, moving to lay on his back beside the redhead.

He tries to lower his legs and groans at the ache from having them pushed against his chest for so long. When his feet are on the ground he can feel some of Ren’s come slip from him, and he grimaces.

Ren’s breathing evens out and he sits up on his knees, pulling his pants back up and tucking his soft — but not any less intimidating — cock back into his underwear. He looks down at Hux when he stands, hovering over him like an overzealous dog with a chew toy. In the shadows of his face the scar looks more ethereal when his face pulls tight, brows knitting together as though he’s considering something. Wordlessly he turns and pulls on his robe, giving Hux another show of the muscle beneath his shirt. The rubber cover goes on next, squeaking as he pulls the clasps and loops and secures it tight against his body.

He looks like he wants to say something, mouth parting for a second as he watches Hux. Ren’s eyes linger at his lips again and Hux wants to scream at him to just do it already, when he walks away. Ren stoops down to pick up his helmet and replaces it on his head, breathing exaggerated by the filter and twice as loud in the silence between them.

The Repo Man leaves with the door still open, boots clicking against the wooden floor of the hallway until Hux can’t hear him any more. It takes several pained seconds for Hux to even sit up, hissing as the sting in his ass tells him it’s a bad idea to sit for a while, let alone stand. He still has to close his door.

Bastard.


End file.
